


Rampage "the Rig" ((work in progress!!))

by OPD



Series: Rampage [1]
Category: Garrus 9, Rampage - Fandom, Transformers - All Media Types, the Rig, transformers Rampage
Genre: FREEDOM!!!, Other, Rampage finds himself in Garrus 9
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-01-24 10:17:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1601258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OPD/pseuds/OPD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rampage finds himself on Garrus 9, stripped to bare spark and contained he finds his road to freedom a treacherous one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Rig.

**Author's Note:**

> Short sketches that kind of form a story of freedom for one who should probably not be free.   
> To those that have inspired me.. THIS IS ALL *YOUR* FAULT!! (thanks!)  
> :)  
> ok here goes nothing...

Time does not exist unless it is observed. I don’t know how much time passed but I do know I’d been observed. According to the Tyrest Accords our existence is a mercy. Better than death, harnessed, contained in stasis, and allowed to pass like time itself. In peace. Perhaps all I am is time. All I ever was. I felt the caresses of the EM fields of those that came to look. Felt them repulse. Good. Their disgust as palpable as fear, but not nearly as nourishing. Not for me. I’d almost forgotten the taste of fear when I felt it flare up around me. Buzzing, crackling, electric, delicious.. Fear. A decision. It was not my little Pandora’s box that was opened though. It was another. Oh but so similar! One full of rage, of pain, of determination. Yes, I didn’t know her designation but I knew all I needed about her. She was a picture, a single image, of a lab.. She must be an experiment too, like me. I who was.. what was I? Her image was washed out.. pink.. No.. blue.. no.. the prismatic sheen of long dried energon. Mostly pink. The images of the femme were drenched in it, then it had gone dry and hard and brittle.. like old paint. Great, my company was flaky. She wasn’t really aware though, it seemed like she was sleeping. For my part it gave me a lot of time to think. I was far from unconscious.. I just felt so disorientated. Spinning, always spinning.. I just wanted to connect to something, anything, and bring myself to a stand still. Get my bearings. Remember. Not in little shreds, but in a flow, a river of continuous thought. Maybe I was flaky too. I observed the passage of time, tick by tick. Every second of the simple awareness of roiling spiraling time. No up, no down. Reaching for each next spark that passed by. Talk to me! Primus.. just.. just talk to me! Do not let me cease to exist! DO NOT IGNORE ME! I roiled against the glass of the container.. please.. I noticed the mind of yet another observer. A glare and the echo of his words. “Will he never cease trying to escape containment? There should be rules for their behavior. Even they should understand the concept of confinement in a simple geometri.. ” the voice faded out of range. Speeding footfalls clanging on the floor fading into the background. Why am I here? Was my image too washed in that ugly pinkish color? No.. I remembered red. Bright red, and dark blue, and inky black.. Glowing pure green meeting my gaze in the darkness. Shining back at me in buffed metal cylinders. There was a crackle nearby. Discharges. Then another. And another. Then the sound of shattering glass.. Square neat and straight letters spelled a word. “Rampage”. I noticed it as the gaze that had read my name flicked to the next. Rampage. Sounds more like an idea.


	2. Turn the Page

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rampage, having sort of leaked out of his containment cube feels drawn to another spark residing in the Rig.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay I hope it works this time, I seem to have trouble posting Chapter Two.. My comp has minicons....

Turn the Page..

The word “delicate” has never been in my arsenal. Getting out of here would take some finesse though. Sharp shards pricked as I squeezed through. Then a sickening falling sensation before stabilizing. Okay, pink spark.. where are you?? I felt it’s pulse quicken as I got closer. The blurry dream scape scattering as the dreamer awoke. Like I said.. not in my arsenal..

As spark met spark it felt like paint. Colors mixing in a swirl. Clearly two colors and yet a lot that flowed between. “Arcee”. I faintly worried if her shade of orchid and my bright jade would clash. Orchid? Fuchsia. Rose. Magenta. Jade. Olive. Peridot. Hunter.. Green hunter.. oh.. right.. me. I felt an odd urge to clear my voicebox as if I had one. I’d been so caught up in the different shades of color I hadn’t noticed she’d named me. I felt an odd ripple. Laughter. It tickled. I felt myself join in.

I noticed a clear image of me in her dream scape. The whole landscape was black, and white, and pink. I even noticed a pink Autobot sigil, I kid you not.

Where I was standing other colors bled into her picture as if I were a leaky faucet slowly drenching everything..

The scent of rain. Greasy bolts. Rusted soil. Cheap high grade. The sensation of drunk kisses.. The sound of a voice still half in recharge. The way optics flared and dimmed with emotions. The way those emotions tasted..Their textures.

Some things are best felt in their absence. The very moment they leave. I felt her loneliness dissolve as I felt my own for the first time. I’d wanted to get out. Get back to my life. To hunting. To the rage that drove me. She mirrored those. I never realized I’d been lonely. That I couldn’t stand to be still. Never realized I needed more than just take what I needed to simply survive. Share. Share it.Great! If I kept going like this I’d end up a sappy Autobot too. Another ripple.“Not funny” I answered but I’m pretty sure the next ripple was mine.

We were droplets of rain on water. Intricate tones in the air. Together, yet not bonded in the spark bond of Conjunx Endura. Nothing that constricting, restraining.. Just.. together. Maybe this is what having siblings felt like. I’d been a Predacon but I had never felt part of the little band of critters. I’d resented having been forced to join. I went off by myself whenever I got the chance. “Protoform X”. Too interested in their experiment to be interested in me. I’d been told to get “over it” many times before but somehow I’d never felt anything more soothing than her anger. In turn she showed me a lab. It was projected like a small hologram, see through, not quite real. I knew it was though. I could feel it. The tide of conflicting emotions pushed into her processor in an attempt to split her processor in a left and right hemisphere. Male. Female. She fed it to me. She had more than enough and so she fed it into me. Jhiaxus. His wish to create gender. Science. Curiosity. A new way to survive as a species. Sure. but I knew the reasons she would never have shared with another. Never would say out loud.

Okay then.. two makes it a list.

Then the sense of disorientation returned as there was a strong sense of current. Swept away in a sense of panic. No way to hold on to each other, we felt tossed into each other and pulled into a new chamber. Larger. Colder. Then we felt the deep throbbing ache of limbs and a processor ache.

I realized I knew his voice as soon as I heard it.

“Arcee.. I need you to listen. There is no time. This place is under attack. We need to balance the scales.. Are you still an Autobot?”

NO!

“Yes” I heard her say it.

Ultra Magnus came into view as our optics adjusted for low light.

I got ready to defend myself. The last time I’d seen him had not gone well for me..

“Shhhh, Green Hunter” I felt it more than I heard it. She hadn’t said it out loud. “I know who we can trust”.

Then I felt her stretch.

“Magnus, just point me in the right direction, then get out of my way”.

I could tell he wasn’t happy about that. It was “Ultra Magnus, duly appointe.. blah blah blah..” A grin flashed through me. It might have shown on my face.

I got a quick flash of her calling him “Mags” before.. then I heard “Paaaaaa-haaage” in a singsong.

Page.

"Rampage".

I felt the corners of my.. our.. mouth quirk up.

Oh scrap!


End file.
